Myths
by weapon13WhiteFang
Summary: They've worked near, in, and around the underworld for years. Yet even with all their years of experience, nothing could prepare them for this side of it.
1. Stories

**Disclaimer:** Do not own Human Target, or any of its characters. I simply own all the other ones... And my imagination ;)

**Author's Note:** Started this piece after an idea came to my mind as I was reading _"Their weirdest job"_ by cedricsowner. The idea is things that we consider myths, are actually real and co-existing with the modern world. Nothing no one hasn't done before, sure. But doesn't mean I don't have my own ideas to throw in. Extra note, the opening words are from the song "The Burning Times" by Christy Moore. Good song. Totally recommend.

**Extra Note: **Until I get other chapters done, you'll have to consider this a sort of sneak-peak taste of the story, OK? I wanna get as many chapters done ahead of time before I post em. Otherwise, I wont finish this and that would suck.

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><p>"<em>And the colours of the sea bind your eyes with trembling mermaids, and you touch the distant beaches with tales of brave Ulysses. How his naked ears were tortured by the sirens sweetly singing, for the sparkling waves are calling you to kiss their white laced lips,"<em> a woman's voice sang softly, silencing the fussy cooing of two bundled infants, their little hands reaching out to grasp at her face

"There there, my stars," she whispered, her warm breath tickling their faces, electing giggles and babbles of noises. "No more crying tonight." She cradled them to her chest as she rose from the wooden rocking and softly rocked them as she went to their crib, laying them gently down for bed.

They wiggled softly, as she turned on their seahorse and mermaid mobile, before their wiggling ceased, and they sighed softly before falling asleep. She softly caressed their cheeks, and smiled. "Sleep tight my stars." She reached over to turn off the small lamp that illuminated the room, when the door to the nursery flew opened.

"Veronica! Veronica, we must go! Now!" Veronica, the woman, gasped in horror at the sight of the man before her, covered in blood and deep wounds. "Troy! By Apollo! What has happened to you?" She reached out to cup his face as he held hers in his blood coated hands, caressing her cheek.

"I'm sorry, my love," he whispered, shaking her slightly. "I failed you and our children! _They_ come! They come to take our young away. By the Gods, forgive me for not being stronger or wiser with the gift that was bestowed upon me and my ancestors." He was shaking and crying. She had never seen her husband cry, and it frightened her.

She kissed his forehead. "W-We must run! We must get out of here! I wont let them take our children," She released his face and went to their cribs, going to scoop up the bundled infants to her chest, only to be almost knocked over as the side of the nursery was blown apart!

"No! You can not have them!" Veronica screamed, shielding the children as they awoke, crying out in fear and the noise, as three men shrouded in cloaks, reached out to grab her shoulder and yank her away, only to be shot dead by a poison arrow. The two remaining mens covered head's snapped to the weak Troy, whose blue eyes were glowing, a newly loaded crossbow aimed shakily at the middle man.

"Quam praesumo vos tentatio Kluge domus! Vos mos subsisto a meus prosapia!" He charged at them as Veronica cried out, tears falling onto the crying infants, as the room began to be engulfed in a bright, blinding light, the cries echoing out.

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><p><strong>Years later.<strong>

Since his decision to leave the police force and partner up with the ex-assassin known to him as Christopher Chance, ex-cop Laverne Winston had seen, heard, and been apart of some strange shit. Done some crazy things. Meet some out of this world people. Hell! He worked with a man that even some of his old police colleges had whispered in fear!

But never before, _never_ in his life, had he seen something as odd and unnerving as what sat before him. Hell, when he'd gotten the call from their new client – scratch that, clients, plural – and wasn't meet with fearful quivering or urgent pushing for help, and instead got calm and collected voices, he'd felt wary.

And now that his clients sat before him, he knew why.

Besides their age and size, both looking to be around sixteen or seventeen, the way they dressed, walked, looked, and just them in general was damn creepy. One male and one female. They stood at what he'd guesstimate to be around 5' 4", with light skin and sandy blonde hair, the girls brushing to her shoulders, while the boys was cut short, his bangs spiked. Their eyes were pale; the boys a pale blue and the girls a sea-foam pale green.

Their strange look was topped off with the fact that both wore dark clothes and boots under dark brown cloaks... And they held each others hands, even as they sat. It wasn't in a romantic way. More like it was habitual and needed. He could tell they were brother and sister... But even that didn't call for them needing to hold each others hands.

"We make you uncomfortable," the girl pipped up, her voice almost emotionless. "Don't we, Mr. Winston," the male finished, his voice more droid like. That was another weird thing. They sounded like robots and finished each others sentences. He remembered once reading something about a study that showed twins shared some kind of mental link with each other, but this was pushing it.

Pushing his glasses up his nose, and flipping through the notes he'd taken while talking to them over the phone, he slowly fixed them with a look. "Listen, Mr. and Misses... Kluge... You gotta understand that, given the circumstances of your age... Well you can understand why I find your alls showing up to be a little... Farfetched and unnerving."

The young girl smile softly, her eyes actually flickering with some emotion, as she spoke. "Quit understandable," her brother jumped in. "We see your reasoning. However we assure you," his sister jumped in again. "This is no joke on your behalf."

Winston glanced between the two, before sighing. They seemed to be telling the truth. Maybe they were in some kind of danger. Hell it wasn't like they hadn't had stranger customers. And the two actually had offered to pay a reasonable amount for their services, which he would have to point out to Ilsa.

"So you will discuss us with your companions and come to a ruling?" The young male cut into his thoughts, startling him. He'd just been about to have that thought cross his mind... How did the kid... Winston shook himself mentally and nodded. "Yes, I'll have a talk with my boss, Miss Pucci and we'll look over your case to see if we can take your case or not."

The two looked at each other. The girl smiled, and the boy frowned, before the both turned to him and spoke. "Thank-you for considering our case, sir."

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><p><strong>R &amp; R Plz. <strong>

**Note: Beware of spelling or grammatical errors. I fix those way later.**

**Translation: From Latin to English - **_"How dare you attack the house of Kluge! You will stay away from my family!" _


	2. Seeking

**Disclaimer:** Do not own Human Target, or any of its characters. I simply own all the other ones... And my imagination... Sometimes ;)

**Author's Note:** Let it be known that GOD I feel I suck monkey blue balls at writing Guerrero and Chance. Winston isn't so bad. And Ames I feel good with. Ilsa, well shes OK sometimes. But Chance and Guerrero can be such pains. They each have a unique character mindset that's hard for me to fully grasp to write, ya know?

**Extra Note:** I'm not Pagan. Nor am I overly religion. I'm a non-practicing Lutheran if I had to place myself somewhere. So If your offended by any mentioning against God and Jesus Christ and all that stuff, existing, pleas don't continue on. Cause lets face it, it's called Myths for a reason.

Also! Even though I'm not religious or Pagan or anything of the sort, I DO like their music. It's pretty sounding to me. And it's been helping me write. So if your OK with listening to non-religious, kinda blasphemy music, try _Burning Times_ by Charlie Murphy, _The Voice_ by Celtic Woman, _Cherokee Rose_ by Corey Smith, and _Song to the Siren_ by Cocteau Twins to get a feel for what helps me write this.

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><p>"Man... They're like.. Younger than me... And they dress like they stepped out of my history book from back in High School," Ames whispered, peeking around the corner at their potential clients. When she'd shown up, she'd been surprised to find the twins sitting quietly and patiently in the living-room. She'd waved and had hoped to start some kind of conversation with them, only to be majorly creeped when the girl had said her name before she'd introduced herself... Her real name!<p>

Chewing on her piece of Hubba Bubba watermelon blast gum, Ames shuddered, before walking over to plop down in one of the office chairs, leaning against the arm with her head propped in her hand, as she watched Ilsa go through the papers Winston had handed her.

"And this is all the information they gave you?" Ilsa asked, pulling off her glasses to look up at Winston, her brow knit in what looked like confusion. Ames sat up a little, blowing a bubble, as Winston nodded. "Yeah... And I'm afraid it gets weirder. I looked for their background information on this thing," he gestured to the high tech meeting table. "And found nothing. Just some family crest." Winston tapped away at the table's keyboard, bringing up a picture on the big screen.

Ames tilted her head. It was a circular coat of arms with a picture of a green snake coiled in the center, it's head tilted up to the corner left. On either side of the circle were two Astars coiled at the stem, the buds facing away from each other. At the bottom of the picture in big, Greek style letters, was "Kluge".

"Hey... Wait a minute..." Ames stood up, and backed away to stand by Winston and stare at the image. "Oh! Hey, I've totally seen this before!" Winston and Ilsa glanced at each other, before looking at her with confusion. Ilsa finally spoke up. "Miss Ames? You're saying you've seen this coat before?"

Ames nodded. "Oh yeah. Totally hard to forget after we spent almost a whole week in my Greek Mythology class. Really boring, by the way. Professor was hot though." Winston sighed, and hung his head. "Ames..." he growled out, causing her to give a sheepish smile, opening her mouth to continue, when the elevator dinging to life caught everyone's attention, cutting her off.

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><p>Guerrero strolled into the office like he would any other day, his tackle box in his hand, and a cup of coffee in the other. He strolled into the living room and stopped. His left brow raised, as he took a sip of his coffee, staring at the twins staring back at him.<p>

They blinked at the same time, the girl tilting her head and the boy glaring at him. The kids shoulders hunched, and Guerrero almost scoffed. Protective brother mood. He'd seen it multiple times when he was younger, and a few times in recent years when making "friends" with a few ladies he'd meet at bars. They were all taken care of quickly, but it was always a waist of time and annoyance for him.

"Your a dark one," Guerrero's eyebrow hitched higher as he spoke. "Your a bad man," the girl cut in, a curious glint in her pale green eyes. His eyes flicked to their hands, before they went back to their faces. "Sadness, anger, death, fear, resentment," the boy mumbled. "Your just full of a lot of dark patches," the girl whispered.

Guerrero froze as he felt a shiver, an actual shiver of... Of fear, run up his jaw squared, and his eyes widened. Standing before him was a transparent image of himself when he was sixteen. Then in a flash it was him standing next to a dark haired woman with bright eyes, before the image flicked again to show a little boy with dark brown hair and dark eyes, hugging a stuffed animal and laughing.

"_Daddy!" _A small voice squealed in delight, echoing in his skull, as the young boys voice rang out, the image shattering. "Stop it, sister!" Guerrero's vision came back into focus of the real world just in time to see the girls pale green eyes glowing a sickly green, before it faded away. "You will alert _them_ to our position," the boy whispered, squeezing his sisters hand tighter, as she blinked, and turned to face her brother.

"It's so sad, brother. He is so sad..." her voice trailed off, as she turned to look back at Guerrero, who had now just realized that he had dropped his tackle box and coffee, and a hand was on his shoulder. His eyes darted around the room, before he turned around sharply to find Chance staring at him with a curious tilt of his head and twinkle in his eye.

"You OK, man?" he asked, looking down at the spilled coffee and tackle box. Guerrero, quickly and smoothly, put himself together to answer. "Yeah, dude. Whats up? Boss lady says we got a new case. Know anything about it?"

Chance stared at his friend, before turning to stare at the twins, then back to him. "Nah, man. I just woke up," he grinned and bent down and picked up his friends box, handing it to him before they both looked at the office, where Ilsa and the others were staring at them with concern, before they made their way into the office, Guerrero glancing at the twins coldly on his way in.

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><p>"You shouldn't have done that."<p>

Her eyes followed the man, before she turned to look in her brothers eyes. "You saw the same thing I did, Cecilio," her voice, though would sound normal and emotionless to anyone around them, was full of sadness for him. "Can we not show him? Can we not give him a chance to-?" Her voice was cut off by her brothers. "You know telling him will do nothing, Cesselot. You can not change what the fates decide for each mortal."

Her shoulders slouched just slightly, and her grip on his hand lightened. "It is not fair, brother. I wish we did not have to see these things. Why were we given such a gift if we can not help others with it!" She was frustrated. Since her days of youth, she had contemplated her gift. It was a gift, for their mother had called it so. But what kind of gift did not allow you to help others?

Cecilio sighed, tightened his grip on her hand. "If it truly were a gift, then we could help them. But it's not an you know it. It is our curse. Our ancestors curse, bestowed upon by the great Apollo himself, passed down to us to live with," he locked eyes with her once again. "You must learn to accept that."

Cesselot scowled, yanking her hand away. Behind them, three light bulbs exploded as the power flickered. Cesselot crossed her arms and turned away from him. "To Hades with what the tales said! To Tartarus with Apollo! Mother said we were blessed like our father! I refuse to believe it is a curse! All our ancestor did was fall in love! How can it be a curse to love?"

The lights flickered faster and two more exploded, before Cecilio growled and grabbed his sisters hand, causing the flickering and exploding light bulbs to stop. "Hold your tongue! Don't say such things, less you wish to be struck down!" he hissed, glancing above them at the ceiling nervously.

"I'm not afraid of the Gods, brother," Cesselot softly explained. "I never have and never will. I'll say what I wish." Cecilio sighed in frustration, and hung his head. "You will be the death of me sister," he grumbled stiffening as he felt his sisters free hand cup his cheek and tilt his face up to hers. She smiled back at him. "We'll be the death of each other in the end, brother. Might as well enjoy the ride before we join Hades."

Cecilio smiled just slightly, before he squeezed her hand, and turned back to watch the strangers walk around in their bosses office. He prayed that they truly were the best as everyone said, and could help them. The stress of this situation they were in, was getting to him and his sister. He didn't know if he could continue to handle it.

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><p>"Are you high?"<p>

Everyone in the office was in a state of disbelief and shock, as Guerrero finished explaining, calmly, what he'd witnessed, stirring his new cup of coffee, leaning against a nearby shelf, as Chance watched Winston shuffle back and forth. "You expect us to believe that these kids just stared at you, and you suddenly found yourself having some kind of out of body experience? You really are out of your mind!"

Chance, arms crossed, leaning against the glass wall of Ilsa's office, stared at his friend. He trusted Guerrero with his life. With a lot of things. But even this was a bit farfetched to believe and trust him in... And yet, he found he was. He had walked down the stairs in time to see Guerrero drop his coffee and the tackle box. Had seen a faint glow where the twins sat. He didn't know what had caused his friend to seemingly black out, but whatever it was had the man shaking like a wet, cold, dog.

It had actually scared Chance as he placed his hand on his friends shoulder, seeming to knock him from whatever blackout he was having. And although he was acting like his normal self, Chance could see the tension in Guerrero's usually calm posture. Something had really gotten to him. Something to do with those kids.

"I say we take their case," he finally spoke, interrupting the argument between Guerrero and Winston, Ilsa and Ames turning to regard him with surprise. "Mr Chance? Are you sure? I'm all for believing that we should help anyone in need, but if these children are dangerous-" Chance cut her off. "That's exactly why I think we should take this case, Ilsa. We can keep on eye on them and learn more about their past, which oddly enough, we can't find anything about," he looked at Guerrero, who looked back at him. "Plus I wanna see if what Guerrero is talking about will happen again."

Winston's jaw dropped as Ames stuffed her hands in her jean pockets and smiled. "Awesome. Creepy case. I can dig that." Ilsa sighed, and shook her head. "Very well, Mr. Chance. We'll take their case," she nodded to him, before turning to Ames, gesturing to the coat of arms. "However, Mis Ames, you said you had seen this coat before, yes? Do you remember anything about it? We can use any information we get at this point."

Ames nodded. "Yeah, actually, I do. I remember the Professor talking about how supposedly the members of this family, the house of Kluge were cursed because of their great ancestor, this oracle chick, whatever that is, named Delphi. Apparently this Apollo dude gave her a gift to tell the future and see it and all this other crazy stuff. However, because of the gift, she had to stay a virgin and never marry, cause I guess virgins were like a big thing to these Greek guys. Anyway, she like feel in love with a soldier named Galion, and they had sex and this angered the Apollo dude, who must be some jealous ex or whatever, and he cursed her for going against her vows to him to stay a virgin," Ames shrugged from their. "And that's all I can really remember, except that the curse would forever pass down through the family until they payed up to Apollo for Delphi's doing."

Everyone stared at her with astonishment, as Chance felt himself smile. Taking in Ames maybe was a good idea. "What?" Ames asked, looking back and forth between everyone. "Hey! I know I'm not that smart, but I do know something! I'm not toally stupid, you know?"

At this, Guerrero scoffed. "Could have fooled me, JV." Ames stuck her tongue out at him, as Ilsa sighed. "Mr. Winston would you kindly go and bring our clients in?" Winston grumbled to himself, as he left the office, leaving Chance to try and calm Ames down as Guerrero threw witty insults at her, and Ames stomped and cried out in defense.

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><p><strong>Yes I know I said I wasn't going to update til I got more chapters done... But I couldnt help myself, you know? Sighs and smacks my hand Bad me!<strong>


	3. Sought

**Disclaimer:** Do not own Human Target, or any of its characters. I simply own all the other ones... And my imagination... Sometimes ;)

**Author's Note:** Started writing this as "Percy Jackson & the Olympians : The Lightning Thief" started playing on my TV. Let it be noted that I HATE the movie, which I see as a disgrace, to Rick Riordan's book of the same name. I adore these books and it infuriates me how bad this movie is. Ugh!

But, it still gives me some ideas. And once it finished, I grabbed my book of ancient myths and legends, and my old Mythology and History book, books I never returned (Oopsie!), and sat down and just read my ass off. I took so many notes... I never even did that when I took my Mythology class! So yeah, I'm dedicated to making this story fun and different and awesome

**Extra Note: **For fellow myth lovers out there, let it be noted that YES! I know that Delphi was not a person, but a place, the site of Apollo's temples where priestesses were noted for their gifts of prophecy. I know this. However the fun thing about mythology, is that they are not set in stone (OK so some were written on stone, but you know what the hell I mean), thus meaning I am allowed to tweak them a bit. They did it for "Hercules" and "Clash of the Titans", so why can't I?

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><p>Winston had led the twins into the office, and their presence seemed to get to everyone. Guerrero was more noticeable, in that he was in the far corner, sipping his drink, and watching them like a mad-dog on guard for any false movement they made. Chance was watching them as well, but with curiosity, like he was trying to figure something out.<p>

Ames was more blunt with her obvious curiosity and uncomfortableness, pretty much staring at them as she stayed guarded. Ilsa looked at them with pity. They were young. Too young to be in such trouble that would require someone like Chance to help them out.

And Winston? Well he still felt wary of these kids. The information they had given him, was that they were being, in their own words, "hunted down like animals" by some cult that wanted their skills. As for what skills they were talking about, he hadn't the slightest. What could two sixteen-year-olds be to a cult? What could they possibly do?

"Thank-you for agreeing to see us," the girl finally said, breaking the silence in the office. "It is kind of you," the boy finished, his voice less kind and more robotic than the girls. "My name is Cesselot. This is my brother Cecilio," she looked to the young male, who gave a sort of bow to her. "And we are in need of your protection urgently. Less we wish to die or never be seen again."

Ilsa looked between the two, and Winston could see her worry deepen. "Yes we've gathered as much from your call and talk with Mr. Winston," Ilsa gestured his way. "You informed him that you were being chased down by, a cult I believe was said, and needed our service. Well I must ask that you inform us of this cult and what exactly these people are after if you wish for our help."

It seemed she was catching on. Ilsa seemed to know what basics Chance and the team needed if they were gonna protect these kids, who turned and looked at each other. Again came that wary feeling. It was like they were having some kind of secret discussion just by looking at each other.

"In the old days, they were called Ένωση των Δελφών," Cecilio began gravely. "Or in English, the League of Delphi. Now they are simply known as Oracles of Repentance." Winston about jumped when Guerrero spoke up, not expecting the psychopath to join in. "The OR? They're just a myth, Something started to keep the street gangs in check, dude."

Winston saw anger flair in Cecilio's pale blue eyes. "There is no such thing as myths or legends. Every tale-tale story, every so called mythological story dating back to the beginning of time, is real. They've just learned to survive by blending in." Winston furrowed his brow. "When you say stories, your not talking about stories like those of Greek,Norse, and Hindu, are you? Cause that's totally not possible." Ames pipped up, getting a shocked look from her teammates and Winston, who noticed how serious she was about her question.

Cesselot smiled, looking more human and likeable. "Yes. Every story, every creature, everything, is real. The Greek gods, Zeus, Apollo, and Hera and all them, they are real," Cecilio nodded, taking over. "The Norse Gods Odin, Thor, and Loki, they exist. Shiva and Vishnu of the Hindu, Anubis and Ptah for the Egyptians, or even to Japan with such deities as Oinari, the Japanese Kami of fertility exists."

Cesselot reached down the front of her shirt, and produced a small necklace with a silver sun at the end. "The gods take up each region of the earth, splitting it. Here in the western lands, The Greek and Roman gods lay charge. Yes the Roman and Greek gods are announced as the same, but they truly are not. They are their own being," Cecilio rolled up his left shoulder sleeve to reveal a tattoo resembling his sisters necklace.

"My sister in I serve the mighty Apollo, God of sun, light, truth and prophecy, medicine, healing, plague, music, poetry, and arts," he rolled down his sleeve as Cesselot stuffed her necklace back down her shirt. "Even though he has done nothing but damn us. He does not deserve our praise." Cecilio scowled at his sister, but said nothing, as their hands, having freed themselves long enough to show of their markings and symbols, found each others again.

"This still doesn't explained why you two are being hunted," Winston finally commented, causing the male to stiffen. Cesselot squeezed her brothers hand before speaking up. "Because of our gift. A gift passed down to all children born with the blood of Delphi; the gift of the Oracle."

Ames gasped, causing everyone to stare at her. "Seriously? No! Delphi was just some story!" Again Cecilio glared, almost growling, his voice loosing that robotic edge. " There is no such thing as myths or legends, miss Montgomery." Ames's mouth dropped, as she held up her hands. "OK! How did you do that? How the hell do you two know my name?" At this Guerrero snorted. "It's Alice Montgomery, dude. Not that hard to figure out."

"OK," Ames growled. "For you, yeah. For them," she gestured to the twins. "It should be! I mean I just meet them!" Chance stepped forward and pat Ames on the shoulder. "Easy Ames. Easy to figure out. If your an Oracle, you can see the future, right? Prophecies were Apollo's specialty." At this Cesselot smiled. "You have had dealings with our kind before." At this Chance shrugged, a boyish smile. "Elliot West was a good man," Cecilio commented sadly. "He is missed."

Winston felt his jaw go slack. "Hold on!" Everyone turned to regard his outburst. "Your telling me Elliot West, old man who helped us out during that mission in Prague, was some kinda of future seeing oracle?" At this Guerrero butt in.. "Well he was getting along in age, dude. Older he got, the more his gift weakened to the point he was just like any ordinary guy. Sucks, dude. He was a good betting buddy."

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><p>Chance smiled as Winston and Guerrero began to argue. He liked that sense of normality it helped create, as he watched the twins study them, their eyes glinting. "How often do you get visions?" he asked them. Cecilio's eyes glowed slightly, before he answered. "All the time. Each new person we meet, we get their whole life played out before us," Chance frowned. "Whole life? Thought Oracle's could only see the future?"<p>

Cesselot shook her head. "It use to be that way. But when our ancestor was cursed, she was cursed to see only the good or bad of someones future. Never the whole thing. With us, the gift was split," Cecilio answered as his sisters eyes flashed a bright green. "I see all the good that happens to a person while Cesselot sees all the bad. Every bad thing a man or woman has done, my sister sees. Every good I see. Yet once I see it, my sister can as well, but only in fuzzy flashes, and vice verse for me with hers."

"You're saying you two are Oracles?" Ilsa asked, brow furrowed in confusion. Cesselot smiled. "Yes. Our ancestor was Delphi, the Oracle of Apollo. And another reason the OR wants us. We hold the true bloodline of Delphi, while they acquired their gifts other ways. Our powers are stronger. For years they've searched for the house of Kluge to use us for some kind of ritual. And they've gotten smarter and stronger. That is why we need you help, sir," Cecilio squeezed his sisters hand. "We can't hold them off anymore."

Chance furrowed his brow in thought, pacing just slightly, before his eyes got a glint of an idea, a smile spreading across his face. "Guerrero you still got Veder's number?" Chance asked, breaking up Winston's snappish remark at Guerrero. Guerrero pushed his glasses up on his nose and frowned. "Yeah dude. Why?"

Chance smiled and pulled out his own phone, to which Guerreo actually scowled. "Dude... Seriously? We don't need him." Chance turned his phone on and gestured for Guerreo to give him the number. Guerrero crossed his arms and grunted in annoyance "845 -2848, dude."

Ilsa gave them a puzzled look. "Mr. Chance? Who exactly are you calling?" Chance just smiled as he held the phone up to his ear. "An old friend."

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><p><strong>R &amp; R. Yay for an update, right? PS I made the number up. Don't try calling it cause I don't know who or what the hell you'll get xD<strong>


	4. Silas

**Disclaimer:** Do not own Human Target, or any of its characters. I simply own all the other ones... And my imagination... Sometimes ;)

**Author's Note:** The character that is to be introduced in this, is a character I've had for years. I unburied him while cleaning my room of my very old school stuff, dating back to even second grade (Comes to show you, I'm a pack-rat). He was crude and badly made, considering he was created in fourth or fifth grade and I'm now nineteen. So yeah, he's a bit old. But after fixing him up, polishing him by working at him in role plays with my dear friend Lady-Rorschach from deviantArt, I feel he's improved a lot.

Of course this version isnt exactly like the version that is used in our role-plays, but that's OK. I like to tweak my characters for each story I place them in. Makes it a little fun for me.

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><p>"We don't need him, dude."<p>

Chance simply smiled, as he looked around him, taking in the crowd of people walking their dogs, playing with their kids, holding hands and walking together. He liked coming to the park. It was nice to see people interact and to actually feel normal. Beside him, laying down and panting softly, Carmine sniffed the air as his droopy eyes followed every piece of food people would buy from Hot Dog and Pretzel carts, licking his maw. Chance pat his fur and smiled. "Not now, buddy. And we do need him, Guerrero, he has more experience in this field than me and you combined."

From his earpiece, her heard a snort of disagreement."This wouldn't have to do with the mission in Moscow, would it?" Chance almost laughed loudly when he heard Guerrero practically growl. "Damn right it does, dude!" Winston, who was in the van, jumped in. "Hold up? What happened in Moscow?"

Chance smiled as two little girls and a boy ran up to him, staring in aw at Carmine, asking if they could pet him. Carmine's small tail wagged as the children pat and smothered him with affection and sticky fingers, which he licked at happily, as mothers watched on with smiles and slight concern for the big dog. "We were running a job for some big shot who wanted us to break into a top secret company, and Veder said he could get us in, but he needed a distraction, so he used Guerrero."

Ames, who was in Guerrero's black 1976 Chevrolet Camaro, a new vehicle he had acquired after the Eldo's 'sacrifice', laughed. "What? They made you do the hula or something?" Chance sighed as she made a loud protest of "Hey!" and what sounded like the door opening and shutting before locking. "Dogs, dude! Dobermans! You know I hate dogs!"

Carmine, who's little fan club had run off to their mothers, gave a huff and stared up at Chance, almost looking like she was glaring at where the earpiece was. "It's not nice to be so harsh on dogs, sir," Cecilio commented softly from the van where him and his sister had joined Winston, deciding to stick close to Chance and his team for protection. "They are smarter than you people give them credit for,," Cesselot finished, causing Chance to smile.

The more he was around the twins, the more they seemed to open up to them. That was good. He found it was easier to protect people if they could open up and trust him to protect them. Their gift was also a benefactor, really. He wasn't about to fully rely on their insight into the future for everything, because he discovered long ago from Elliot that the future could easily change. But it was good that they could see ahead so he wouldn't have to worry about explaining everything. It saved them time.

"Sir Chance," Cesselot began. "We understand your dealings with this man, but s it bright to bring in one of his kind?" He heard Cecilio grunt. "They do not exactly live in a favorable light in the our world of living." Chance smiled. "Well if you two can see the future like you say, then you can see why I picked him to help us," he looked around, hoping to spot their person of discussion. Cecilio grumbled in his ear. "We can not see everything, Mr. Chance. Otherwise we would see how to dodge our attackers, and wouldn't require your help, would we?" Chance frowned. It made sense, and he'd been thinking about it for awhile. If they could see the future, why would they need his help when they could just see and dodge who was after them. He suspected their "curse" had something to do with the limited feedback.

"You got company, Mr. Chance," Cesselot pipped up, breaking his thoughts, as he looked around him, smiling as he spotted who he was looking for as they made their way casually towards him. He was a tall male at around six and a half feet. His eyes were a dark blue-green, and his hair was short and wild, spiked and swished. He was dressed in a white wife-beater, dark jeans with a large texas belt, and black boots.

Carmine sat up and panted, recognizing the man. "It's been a long time, old friend," the man began in his light Scottish brogue, smiling as he bent down and pat Carmine's head, brow raised at Chance, who stood up. "I thought you were dead." Chance shrugged. "Ah well, you know how it is. Can't let everyone know your alive unless you want company all the time," the man chuckled, before raising his voice slightly. "And it's nice to see you're still alive, Guerrero." Chance chuckled when he didn't hear anything, betting that Guerrero was glaring out at them from where he was positioned.

"When you explained to me why you needed my help, I came as fast as I could, man. You really know how to pick your cases, don't you?" Chance gave a boyish smile as the man sighed. "Ah come on, Silas. You would have done the same thing."

Silas Veder smiled, chuckling as he crossed his arms. "Aiy... I would have," he shook his head with a smirk. Chance pat him on the shoulder in a gesture of old friendship, as Silas sighed. "I'll help ya, Chance, but I can't promise this'll all go smoothly or that everyone will get out without any bruises. You're stepping into dangerous woods, my friend. I must ask," he squared his shoulders and meet Chance's bright blue eyes. "Are you sure you can handle this?"

Chance gave one of his charming smiles. "Of course. It's my job." Silas snorted and shrugged. "Your funeral, man." Pulling Carmine's leash, the two males and the dog made their way to Winston's position.

* * *

><p><strong>R &amp; R. I know it's short, but I will try to make the next chapter longer, kay? :]<strong>

**Extra Note: **The man who is my model for Silas Veder is Jon Hamm : http:/ . net/instyle/images/2008/GALLERY/05/052008 _ hamm _ 400x400 . j p g


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